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Even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this again, chase after someone who seemed intent on staying an arm’s length away, he couldn’t help it. At least Mira had good reasons to keep her distance. She was protecting herself, being realistic, being smart. Three things that he was, admittedly, terrible at. He didn’t care. She might be worried they’d end up hurting each other, but he wasn’t. He knew she’d never hurt him, not like Nancy had. And he’d cut off his own hands before he’d ever hurt her.
Maybe she couldn’t see a future for them romantically, but he could. He didn’t know what that future looked like yet, but he knew it existed. And he had a little less than three weeks to convince her it existed too. Starting right now.
If sex was what she wanted, then sex was what she’d get. He could hardly be blamed if he made sure it was the best sex of her life.
While Mira came down, her eyes still half-closed, her fingers soft on his hips, he leaned over and rummaged in the nightstand for the box of condoms. Fishing one out, he tore the wrapper with his teeth and rolled it on like he was going for a world speed record. The last thing he wanted was to rush this moment that still felt stolen with her, but he knew if he gave her too much time to unwind, it wouldn’t feel as good. And he needed her to feel good. He needed to keep her as close to the edge as possible, whether he could push her over it again or not.
Settling between her legs, he lined up with her entrance, and while her heels hooked behind his waist, while he pressed his hips forward, stars exploded in front of his eyes, constellations, galaxies.
“Mira,” he groaned, dropping his head because holding it up was impossible. “You feel so good.”This was such a colossal understatement it bordered on an outright lie.Good?A fresh shave felt good. A warm bath felt good. Being inside Mira Harlow fucked him up. It rearranged his atoms, altered his molecular structure. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he’d destroyed his body today, but right now, he felt no pain.
While he slid out, then back in, drawing whispered moans from her throat, she dragged her fingernails up his back, took his face in her hands, and kissed him. Her mouth was soft when he kissed her back, her tongue even softer, tempting him to stay there, buried deep inside her, cradled in the warmth of her thighs.
Not yet.
Breaking the kiss, he slid his hand up her ribs to cup her breast, backing out enough to guide her nipple toward his lips, suck it into his mouth. When he swirled his tongue around the hard tip, grazed her tight, pebbled skin with his teeth, her back arched off the bed. Taking advantage, he released her breast to slip his hand underneath her, spreading his palm flat against her lower back, holding her tightly while he thrust into her, deep and hard.
“Cole.” His name was a whispered plea on her lips while she hitched her leg over his hip, improving his angle, letting him find a new depth inside her.
“Is it good, sugar?”
“Mm-hmm,” she moaned, and he couldn’t decide if the lines diving between her brows were from pain or pleasure. He was about to ask if he should slow down, if it was too much, when her hands sliding over his ass, urging him on, answered his question.
There was music in the way they moved together, a rhythm, each note driving him closer and closer to mindless, formless ecstasy. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn she was right there with him, her head thrown back, her lips parting, breaths ragged. But he was no rookie. He wasn’t about to ruin whatever she was feeling by asking her about it. Now was not the time for words, only his hips moving and her hands pressing and his mouth finding her neck, kissing and licking, savoring the sweet taste of her skin in that sensitive valley behind her ear.
She shuddered, her fingernails digging into his back, her inner muscles flickering, and as much as he might have wanted to, he couldn’t hold back. He bit down gently on the sacred spot where her neck met her shoulder, and as she cried out his name, a storm of pleasure barreled through him, making him glow like neon.
He groaned, her name on his lips, his hips still moving, animated by some deep, primal part of his brain that had evolved to believe this climax was more important for the survival of the human race than eating, drinking, even running from lions.
It lasted forever. It ended too quickly. Refusing to be anywhere now but buried deep inside her, warm between her thighs, he relaxed into her arms, regaining his bearings while she pressed soft kisses into his hair.
He wanted to tell her things, words preparing to dive off the tip of his tongue, words likeamazingandbeautifulandlife changing. But as his mind cleared, he remembered why he couldn’t say those things.Only sex. No emotions.He’d behave. For now. And because it was right there, tempting him like a cherry glistening on top of a sundae, he turned his head to the side and took her nipple back into his mouth.
Her arms falling to the bed, she exhaled, “Christ,” a benediction offered up to the ceiling.
He released her nipple, then asked, “Did you? Again?” while gazing up at her. He didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but it kind of felt like she had, and he was gathering data, learning what she liked, what worked, what didn’t, what he could do better next time.
She threw an arm over her eyes, her lips curving into a grin that didn’t quite answer his question. “It was so good.”
“Yes,” he told her, pushing up to kiss her again, “it was.” Pulling out reluctantly, he kissed her one last time, then rolled to the side, heading into the bathroom to throw the condom away. “Funny story,” he said when he returned to the bed, slinging her slightly limp arm over his waist, letting her nestle into him. “I found that condom in a box in the nightstand. Randomly.”
“Didn’t Madigan stay in this cabin before he moved into the lodge with Ashley?”
“That he did. You know the old saying, friends who share condoms… I forget how the rest of it goes.”
Her laughter brushed across his chest.
“Speaking of condoms. We don’t have to use them, if you don’t want to.”
Her head popped up like a meerkat from its hole. “What?”
“If you like them or something, that’s fine with me. But we don’t have to—”
“I realize my most fertile days are behind me, Cole. But I know two women who got pregnant in their fifties. No thanks.”
Now it was his turn to laugh. “I’d never doubt your fertility. But you’re in the clear. I got a vasectomy years ago. Right after Roe v. Wade was overturned.”
“You…” She blinked at him, her green eyes wide and breathtaking. “Are you serious?”
